


I Think The World Of You

by moreculturelesspop



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Broody Castiel, F/M, Female Castiel/Male Dean Winchester, Genderswap, Heterosexual Sex, Human Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26713366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moreculturelesspop/pseuds/moreculturelesspop
Summary: Cas is broody, Dean is not impressed.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 28





	I Think The World Of You

He looks down at the tiny newborn, barely four hours old. He has that perfect smell and little rosy cheeks. He had done nothing but sleep and feed since he was born, but he was just perfect.

“I remember when Sammy was this small,” he says, before clearing his throat with emotion. “Dad gave him to me and told me I had to look after him, no matter what. That’s what big brothers do, protect at all costs.”

“Dean,” Cas says gently. “You have protected him. You gave your life for him more than one time.” She is curled around him on the sofa, her chin on the crook of his shoulder to get a good view of Robbie.

“Crazy, eh?” he responds with a crooked response. “My little Sammy, a Dad with his own kid to look after.”

“Maybe we could have one,” she shyly says, looking up at him with long dark eyelashes.

“A kid?” he asks, looking up at her.

“Look at gorgeous he is,” she strokes his soft slumbering cheek. “I can’t imagine how magical it must be to bear and birth your own. I want to have a baby with you, Dean.”

“Think I’d be a good dad?” he asks.

“The best,” she smiles, lifting her head from his shoulder. They kiss with a gentle passion, careful of the little life in their arms.

Dean goes to bed before her most nights, he’s getting old she’ll joke. She’s still not used to sleeping, the concept of falling asleep and never knowing if you were going to wake up was still disconcerting for her. She reads in the library, still unable to take her mind off the birth of Sam and Eileen’s child. It was so primal, so raw, so beautiful. She rubs her empty belly and thinks what it would feel like to birth Dean’s child. Would he help deliver his child or would he freak out in the chair beside her?

When she finally climbs into their bed, Dean is asleep on his back and snoring lightly. She strips down to her sexiest slip, all black lace and satin fabric. She slides into bed beside him and gently kisses his neck. He purrs in his sleep and she rubs up against his leg. His eyelids flutter as he wakes up, tangling his fingers in her long, dark hair.

“Hey, angel,” he smirks. She runs her hand up his shirt, across his still toned body. “What you up to?” He asks between kisses.

“Making a baby,” she whispers. She doesn’t mean to say those exact words, but the topic is at the forefront of her mind. She leans ups and kisses him forcefully, feeling the way his hands were exploring her body.

“What,” he chuckles, awkwardly. “You want a baby?” He body stiffens up and he drops his hands from her body.

“Yes, I said earlier.”

“Fuck,” he murmurs. He pulls away from her and sits up in bed. He turns on the light and rubs his eyes. “I didn’t think you meant it.”

“That I think we should have a child? That I want to bear your child?” She pushes herself up from her side.

“You said ‘maybe we should have a baby.’ Like, in the same way, I say that I’ll maybe diet and you’ll maybe cut your hair.”

“You don’t want a child?” She could hear the sadness in her voice, feel the tears in her eyes.

“It’s not that I don’t, I dunno, feels like something we should talk about more.”

“Let’s talk about it then,” she says, with a pout she wishes she could hold back.

“It’s late, Cas. In the morning.”

“No!” she shouts, before lowering her voice, “Why don’t you want to have a child with me, Dean?”

“I never said that. It’s late. Let’s talk in the morning.” She crawls out of bed, feeling the cold tiles on her bare feet.

“I gave up everything for you,” she says, feeling the tears roll down her face. “I gave up my grace for you.”

“Don’t start that with me,” he threatens. “I would have given my life for you. I would give my life for you,” _I would have given_ , echoes in her mind. She looks down at her painted toenails, a recent prenatal treat to a pedicurist for Eileen, and lets the tears flow. “Go to sleep and we’ll talk it over in the morning. I can’t do this now.”

She runs out their bedroom, trying not to slam the door behind her. She should have known Dean would have become bored with her, just look at his track record of relationships. She at least lasted longer than their motel stay, she had already beaten every woman she had ever seen him sleep with. He doesn’t follow her; he probably rolls over and goes back to sleep. He was never committed to her, she was just there.

She opens his bottle of whiskey unapologetically and brings it, alongside a glass, to his favourite spot on the kitchen floor. She drinks and cries, mourning the end of a relationship. They told her she was stupid, to give up her grace for one man. They warned her not to waste so many years protecting a human who would never love her in the same way she loved him.

She hears footsteps and prays she hasn’t woken Sam or his perfect little family up. “You’re in my spot,” Dean says. She looks up at him with blurred vision, he’s holding her purple dressing towards her and dark circles are settling under those eyes. “Thought you might get cold,” he says, offering her the garment. She was sat in her thin silky slip, bare feet and bare shoulders but she hadn’t considered the cold. She takes it from him and cuddles the dressing gown to her chest, feeling how soft it felt against her collar bones.

He sits down beside her on the floor. He leans in and kisses her passionately. They called it a purgatory kiss. When you’re scared to say everything you want to say, scared you’re going to lose each other.

“I-” they both say, when they break apart.

“Yes,” he says, clutching her cheek in his hand. “Lets make a baby.”

“No, Dean,” she says, looking down at the way their hands join in his lap. “I won’t force you into such a big life decision.”

“I will do anything to make you happy. Anything. Always have,” he clears his throat. “Any issues I have is not because of you, it’s because of me.”

He leans in and kisses her deeply, meshing their tongues together. He leans over her until she’s on her back. Somehow, he’s managed to get the dressing gown on the floor behind her, so her head never touches the cold tiles. “This is really sexy,” he growls, fingering at the lace around her breasts.

“You really want to conceive our child on the kitchen floor?”

“Hey, I said I’d give you a baby. I didn’t say how or where.” He slides his briefs down and lifts her slip up. They make love on their floor, their bodies entirely entwined. His arms holding her off the floor, her legs around his waist. She had always loved feeling him shudder in ecstasy above her, but now it came with a feeling of hope.

Afterwards, she leans against him, still in their favourite spot behind the kitchen worktop. He drapes the dressing gown across her feet, worried they would get cold. “You’ll never be your father,” she tells him. He wraps his arms around her body and holds her tight.

“I know,” he sighs. “I don’t think I could ever bear seeing you so sad again. The thought you might walk out on me and never came back,” he says, kissing her head.

“I always came back,” she sighs.

**Author's Note:**

> I have piles of these types of fics running around my brain, but not the time to get them down. Any comments are appreciated and give me the motivation to get the plot bunnies out my head.


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